


Between a Bed and a Hard Place

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Codependency, Fights, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doing favours for Mikey without Gerard's permission always turns out badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between a Bed and a Hard Place

To say that Ray’s in no way expecting Mikey to come alongside him at his locker and say _teach me how to get fucked_ is a bit of an understatement. Things that are not expected are generally things that are plausible, just not at that particular time. This is far beyond that.

It’s not that Ray doesn’t expect Mikey to be at his locker, usually four days out of five he mooches a ride. He’s not the worst copilot Ray’s ever had, that distinction would fall to Matt, who once got drunk enough to fling the door open so hard the side mirror fell off. Which, granted, is probably just as much the fault of his shitty car as Matt, but when you fuck up someone’s property you help pay for it. The refusal was pretty much the last nail in the coffin carrying their friendship. Mikey never chips in for gas but he’s got some sort of Vulcan mind meld with the radio and can find the best songs pressing buttons, six or seven in a row for the time it takes to get Mikey back to the Way residence. So it’s definitely not the way Mikey slinks up behind him, even if Mikey’s hand on his shoulder makes him jolt with surprise. The shock is from a combination of Mikey King of Hookups asking for sexual advice and Mikey asking _him_ for advice. Mikey should already know this answer, and if he doesn’t he shouldn’t be asking him. 

Ray takes it the way he takes Gerard sometimes getting crazy. He ignores it. He grabs his hoodie and tugs it on, then slams the locker door and feeds the U of the lock through the tiny hole. He spins the combo four times, like he has since the first day of high school, tugs it once to make sure it’s locked, and starts walking to his car. 

“Come on Ray, don’t be an asshole,” Mikey says, trotting a few steps to catch up.

“I’m not. This is my ignore crazy bullshit strategy. I’m thinking of having it patented, even.”

“Why is teaching me crazy?”

“I just find it hard to believe you haven’t already hooked up with a guy.” The Ways never came out, but they never really had to. Give Gerard three minutes to rant about gender norms and it’s impossible to think of him being adverse to making out with a guy, even if his only reason would be to horrify the closeminded. Sometimes Ray imagines bringing Gerard home with him and letting him rant at Lou for an hour. Then he realises he loves his friends, and Lou beating the shit out of them would be bad. 

With his peripheral vision he can see Mikey shrugging slightly. Normally Ray is content to let Mikey be a man of few words, but this is a situation that requires talking if he wants to figure out what the hell Mikey’s on about. He stays determinedly silent to force Mikey into continuing.

“I’ve blown guys and I’ve gotten blown. That you can do in a bathroom. Most guys don’t have the patience for fucking. And when they want it, they ask me to fuck them. But there’s this guy. He doesn’t do virgins, they freak him out.” 

“So you want me to have sex with you so some guy can have sex with you without being the cashier of your v-card?” Mikey shrugs. “And that doesn’t strike you as insane?”

“It’s not like I’m telling you to make love to me. It’ll be fine.”

“Mikey-”

“You already fuck guys.”

Which is a little known fact, held between him and the guys, and the few he’s hooked up with. It’ll stay a little known fact until he’s in college and away from the Toro clan. And it’s not the point anyway.“Yeah, but none of them are Gerard’s brother.”

“So?” Mikey’s being deliberately obtuse, there’s no way he’s actually that dumb. Everyone and their damn dogs know Gerard doesn’t take kindly to people not treating Mikey exactly to his specifications.

“So he’ll kick my ass when he finds out.”

“Why would you tell him?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t.” Ray is fond of his ball sack, he’d like to keep it out of his throat. “But he’ll find out.”

“If you don’t tell him and I don’t tell him-”

“He’ll fucking know by osmosis.” 

“But you’re my best friend. It’ll be better.”

Mikey’s insinuation that Gerard would rather have him do it than some stranger is so ridiculous Ray almost doesn’t answer. Gerard has detailed mental lists of how different relationships to Mikey are supposed to act around Mikey. There’s not a chance Ray screwing Mikey is on that list. But all staying silent would do is make Mikey think he’s right. “Friends aren’t supposed to fuck friends.”

“Right, because there’s like no such thing as friends with benefits, and Seth and Ryan never hooked up.”

“Did you seriously just try to convince me with The O.C.?” Because there is a big difference between Mikey enjoying shitty B horror movies and Mikey enjoying shitty MTV drama.

“The fact that you recognised it nulls and voids any shame I feel for using it. Look, I’m not asking my brother’s permission to have sex. Are you going to fuck me or what?”

“No.” It’s not like Mikey isn’t hot. He just fears for his life if Gerard finds out. Not to mention that even if Gerard didn’t get violent he’d be upset, and Ray hates feeling guilty about having sex. It happens enough already, thanks to the homophobia he faces at home. 

“Fine.” Mikey stops and turns around. Ray rolls his eyes at the dramatics and asks where he’s going. “I’m taking the bus to Frank’s. I’m pretty sure Jamia’s got a same sex isn’t cheating clause, not that he’s ever used it.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” It’s fine, Mikey’s bluffing. No one would be stupid enough to want Frank as their first, he’s way too impatient and enthusiastic for that sort of thing. 

Twenty five minutes later Frank texts **i think mikeyway just propositioned me. yay/nay?**. Ray types out one handed as he steers with the other **so much fucking nay**. 

It only takes him five minutes to get to Frank’s. It’s possible he was subconsciously circling the area. The door is open, Frank’s shit at remembering to lock it, even though every time he leaves it open he gets yelled at when his mom comes in and doesn’t have to use her keys. It’s not all that surprising that Mikey is sitting on his lap, Frank probably didn’t even check his phone. Ray’s not gonna let it happen though.

“Mikey, let’s go.” 

“I’m happy here,” he answers, voice half muffled by Frank’s neck. 

“I’ll fuck you in my car, or I’ll fuck you here,” shoots out of Ray’s mouth before he has a chance to censor himself. 

“Mikey votes your car, not my living room floor.” With a combination of shove and hip buck he’s off Frank’s lap. Frank smiles at the pile of Mikey on the floor in front of him, Mikey scowls, and Ray just waits impatiently for him to get up.

“Wow, way to cockblock me.” 

“It’s not cockblocking if I’m going to fuck you. Consider that lesson one or something. See you later Frank.” Frank gives a sarcastic wave goodbye from the couch as Ray herds Mikey towards the door. 

Mikey settles in the passenger seat for the second time and Ray starts to drive, looking for a place where they can park for half an hour without being noticed. It’s not like getting stoned in a parking lot. No one walking past towards a store gives a shit if someone is smoking in their own car. Ray’s pretty sure two people stretched out in the back seat fucking would be an entirely different story. Getting arrested figures nowhere into his plans for the future.

“Are you seriously gonna fuck me in this car?” His voice doesn’t sound incredulous, but then it’s _Mikey_. Anyone expecting to understand what he thinks or how he feels by listening for tone is poorly informed.

“I share a room with Lou. And Gerard is home, and I don’t care if you don’t care, because I fuckin’ do.” The last thing he needs is Gerard coming in mid stroke to set his hair on fire.

“We should have fucked on Frank’s floor,” is Mikey’s comment before he fiddles with the radio and the Radiohead and Pixies’ collab song comes on, two chords from the beginning.

Twenty minutes later Ray’s willing to concede defeat. If it was the middle of the night they could park in front of someone’s house, but it's quarter to five and there are kids with bikes all over the goddamn place. He’s no more willing to fuck two houses down from someone on a trike than he is outside a grocery store while old men walk carts back to the corral. 

“Call him and ask him if we can use his floor. It’s better than either of our houses, and it’s better than a Walmart parking lot.” Frank’s mom won’t be home for at least two more hours. 

Of course Mikey doesn’t call. He never calls anyone, he claims there’s more privacy in a text because no one can hear one side of the conversation. Pointing out that having his phone snatched would result in both sides being read can’t sway him. A minute later he reads out “he says we need to clean up our own fucking mess. Should we tell him that’s a pun?” 

“How about we not smart ass the host until after we orgasm?”

The front door is still open, Frank is still on the couch. “I assume you don’t actually want my living room floor. I put clean sheets and pillowcases beside my bed. If you don’t change them afterward I’ll kick both your motherfucking asses. And now I am just going to listen to Terminator. At very high volume. Enjoy yourselves. Use protection.” Frank smirks, adds “did you know that in New Jersey last year there were twenty four thousand reported cases of chlamydia?”

“Lesson two? This is not good foreplay conversation.” Mikey quirks his eyebrows in a way that conveys _no shit_. 

Frank’s bedroom is clean. It’s not exactly surprising, Frank is the cleanest teenager Ray knows. Sometimes it’s a bit weird. His locker has all his books in a row on a self inserted shelf rather than tossed in, pages splayed as it drops to the bottom. He rinses his can before he tosses it into the recycling. Frank’s the only person Ray’s ever met that has a shower every morning, no matter who’s house he’s staying at. But when cleanliness is one of your worst qualities it doesn't mean much. 

Ray’s never done anything with Frank. As far as he knows Mikey is right, Frank hasn’t taken advantage of his clause with any guy. Still, it’s easy to guess where his getting off supplies are. In the average bedroom there are really only a few places possible. Frank’s are in the second place Ray checks, the sock dresser drawer, porn under a layer of balled up socks, condoms tight against the inner side of the MDF. There’s no lubricant, not even lotion. Normally Ray might weep for Frank’s chafed dick, but he’s got bigger concerns. “I’m going to go raid his mom’s bedroom. May God have mercy on my soul.” 

“Wait.” Ray pauses with his hand on the door as Mikey digs through his backpack. He pulls out bottle of strawberry-kiwi Wet, Ray recognises it as it’s the only kind the CVS a few blocks from the high school sells. 

“You carry lube with you at all times?” 

Mikey rolls his eyes. “Yeah, playing pool and at church. I was hoping you would say yes. Idiot.”

After he tosses the bottle to the bed Mikey stands and starts pulling his long legs out of his jeans. It shouldn’t be anything special, it’s not like he hasn’t had a thousand sleepovers with him and the rest of the guys over the years. It’s something special, and for an instant he thinks about what this might fuck up. What if he can never watch Mikey changing into pyjamas again without getting flashbacks?

Ray’s had sexual thoughts about nearly everyone he knows, but that doesn’t make him a whore. It’s not like he actively wants to have sex with everyone, that he’s actually going commit the stray thoughts that wander through his brain. Shit, a third of them are about girls, and if Ray saw an actual vagina he’d probably vomit. So he’s probably thought about Mikey, but not like this. Not the way his dick is getting hard and making his briefs bulge. Not the way he drags Ray into a kiss, and the tongue in his mouth can almost draw away his attention from Mikey’s fingers unbuckling his belt. This is entirely different from an idle thought about Mikey’s hands.

When Mikey pulls his head back a inch, he murmurs “you gonna fuck me now?”

Ray smirks against Mikey’s cheek. Fuck the potential future complications. If he’s indulging craziness, he might as well live in the moment of it.

“Lesson three. Doing this when you’re on your back is way hotter. If you were a moron you’d think girl’s position, but I’m pretty sure Gerard has talked you out of gender based bullshit. No guy that wants to fuck you is imagining you’re a girl, unless you’re, like, wearing a dress, and those are some advanced lessons I’m not gonna do.” Mikey would probably look good in a skirt, with his legs, but it’s not Ray’s kink. “It’s just fucking hot okay? Your dick smearing against your belly, your head thrown back, your knees on my shoulders. It’s fucking hot.”

Mikey shrugs in a _sounds good to me_ motion, and moves onto Frank’s bed. Ray stretches over him to pull the duvet onto the floor. If Mikey shoots off on it Frank will have a fit. After that all that’s left is to crawl into the space between Mikey’s spread legs and fumble for the Wet.

“I’m just getting my phone char-” the door bursts open and Frank freezes in the door frame. Ray spares a second to look over at Frank, who is staring at where Ray’s fingers have disappeared into Mikey’s body. Between the angle of the bed to the door and the way Mikey’s leg is hooked on his shoulder, Frank couldn’t possibly have a better view, aside from standing an inch away with a magnifying glass. Ray feels absurdly proud. 

“Holy shit, that was like three seconds! Whatever happened to foreplay?” Frank blusters, cheeks quickly reddening. 

“If you have any advice on anal you’re welcome to share,” Ray snaps. It’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, or that Mikey doesn’t want it as badly as he does. 

“Or if you want advice you’re welcome to watch.” Ray blinks hard at Mikey. That was not part of the earlier deal. Ray’s not anyone’s porno. On the other hand, it could be hot, showing off. He’s never tried it before, he doesn’t know that it won’t work for him.

Before Ray has a chance to make his conflict known Frank laughs nervously. “No, I’m good. I just need my charger.”

He closes the door as he backs out without said charger. Seconds later the volume on the tv shoots up fifteen notches. “I guess that answers the participation question.”

“Lesson three. You can totally make someone come by fingering them.” 

Mikey moves his hand between his legs to stop Ray’s fingers. “Abort lesson three.” 

Ray almost wants to roll his eyes. Abort? Fucking Waydorks. But he doesn’t. It seems rude to do that to someone while part of you is inside them. And Mikey does have a point. Using this opportunity just for fingering would be a waste.

It’s not really a surprise that when Mikey stretches his arm out to grab at his backpack, he comes back with a fist full of condoms. He opens his hand and they scatter over the sheets. Ray picks one at random and tears it open with his teeth. It’s against the sex ed manual, but even if he pulled his fingers out of Mikey they would be too slippery to help. “You wanna put it on me?” 

He does. It’s the first time someone’s touched his cock in awhile, and it’s great. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how great it is and be content with your own hand. Then you hook up and remember why sex is so important. The condom is pre-lubricated, but Ray grabs the bottle a second time and slicks up more. Lou’s told him ‘the wetter the better’, and even though he’s not fucking women it still applies.

Mikey’s tight enough that Ray can barely get in. It feels fantastic verging on the point of pain, at least for him. It’s probably not the same for Mikey. He doesn’t say it hurts. He doesn’t need to, the fingers digging painfully hard into Ray’s ass are words enough. 

“Do you want to me to pull out?” He doesn’t want to, the tight heat around the head of his cock is downright glorious. But he will, if Mikey needs him to.

“No. No moving.” The words come out between gritted teeth.

“Yeah, okay.” 

Ray carefully does not move for the next several minutes. It seems to take forever for Mikey to relax enough that he can push in more. Mikey’s not hard anymore, and Ray can’t help but feel guilty. It’s a shitty way to feel while balls deep. So he stills again to give Mikey more time to adjust, but this time does his best to balance himself on one hand so he can take Mikey’s cock with the other. Mikey might just be using him, but if he’s not enjoying it there’s no point. 

Thankfully Mikey is a teenage guy, capable of focusing on the important things. A minute of stroking made slicker by grabbing the lube a second time and he’s in a much better mood. The hands on his ass change from a _oh my God I’m going to die_ death grip to a _start doing something now_ demanding grip. Ray drops his hand back down to the bed so he can thrust without worrying about losing his balance and crushing Mikey. He doesn’t let Mikey’s squeezing push him into a different rhythm, but Mikey doesn’t seem to mind much, too busy moaning to complain. 

“Lesson four,” he manages to groan out, “facials are for porn. No one will ever pull out to jerk themselves off when they could be fucking.”

Coming inside someone never gets old. Ray could be ninety years old and he’d still want to high five the guy in bed with him. Pulling out is the opposite side of that coin; like climbing out of a pool and shivering in the room temperature air. He reaches for the box of kleenex and rips the plastic pushing inside to grab a handful at once. If his come sprays the inside of Frank’s garbage can when he tosses the condom in, Frank will somehow know the difference between his and Ray’s and he’ll kill him.

“Thanks.”

Ray’s grateful his panting is a good enough excuse to not have to answer. What do you say to that? You’re welcome? 

Mikey sits up and bends over the edge of the bed to grab his jeans. “I’m gonna go hang out with Pete now.”

“You probably shouldn’t let him fuck you,” Ray says before he can stop himself. “It’ll hurt more the second time, since you’re not used to it.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Mikey doesn’t mention needing a ride, so Ray doesn’t worry about it. Maybe Pete lives near Frank and Mikey’ll walk, or maybe the guy has a car too. Mikey’s a perpetual ride mooch. His concerns are more immediate. He needs to change Frank’s sheets and drive home with the windows down so the sweat dries up and his hair goes back to normal. If Lou thinks he’s had sex the entire evening will be dumb questions Ray’ll have to bullshit answers to. 

He reminds Frank to lock the door behind him when he leaves, shouting to be heard over the television. Frank nods but doesn’t shift on the couch. He’s not going to lock the door, and his parents are going to freak out, Ray knows it. If he had a key he’d do it himself. Mikey’s nowhere to be seen as he heads towards his car, which doesn’t really lend credit to one theory over the other.

It takes three or four tracks to get home from Frank’s, depending on time of day and what CD is in the player. Today the first riffs of track six are just beginning as he pulls into his driveway. Ray’s got the keys out of the ignition before he sees it. Gerard is sitting on his front step. He looks back and forth between Gerard and the steering wheel a few times. He could take off again, but Gerard is perfectly capable of staying on the step until dawn. The Ways are persistent motherfuckers. Might as well get it over with.

Somehow he’s not expecting it. He should have been, when he uses immediate hindsight as he raises his hand to his reddening face Ray realises he should have known there was no way he was getting out of the situation without getting punched. Gerard’s got a pretty weak left hook, but it’s still gonna bruise. Still, he expected this at school tomorrow, not fifteen minutes after the fact. 

“What, did Frank tell you?” He wouldn’t put it past him to complain to half the people in his contact list about his room smelling like other people’s come.

“Frank was there? Did you just gangbang my baby brother?”

“No!” Ray prudently doesn’t tell Gerard about the almost threesome. He already looks like he’s about to pass out from rage.

“So he just asked you, the guy with the biggest dick he knows.”

“He was just preparing himself for whatever comes up,” Ray jokes. He can tell immediately it was the wrong thing to say. The second direct hit in as many minutes confirms it.

“So you just thought it would be a good idea to fuck some virgin you don’t even care about? Is that normal Wednesday activity for you?”

Logically speaking, this is probably one of those things where it’s best to ignore crazy Gerard. But it pisses him off that he’s being such a dick. “Fuck you. I care about Mikey. And you know he wasn’t really a virgin. He’s not some Victorian that’s never seen someone’s elbows.” 

Gerard’s arm goes up again, this time Ray grabs his wrist before anything connects. “Stop that. Go home. Or go hang out with your girlfriend and try to get a hand under her shirt. Because Mikey is out having more sex with his boyfriend, so who knows when he’s coming home.”

It’s a cruel thing to say. Ray can see the way Gerard flinches, like Ray is pressing down on an invisible bruise. He’s not sure what’s up with the Ways. They’re a group of friends, not a support group, so they’ve never sat in a circle and discussed Gerard and Mikey’s codependency. But in hindsight it’s not a surprise at all that Mikey told Gerard about it, no matter what he promised at school. They share everything. 

“Fuck you,” Gerard says eventually, wearily. 

“Fuck off,” he answers. He’s not the bad guy here, he didn’t do anything Mikey didn’t want. It doesn’t matter if Gerard didn’t want it for Mikey.

“Don’t talk to me tomorrow.” Gerard pulls out of Ray’s grip and elbows him aside as he tromps down the few steps to the sidewalk. He keeps his eyes on the ground, not looking back.

Ray somehow makes it into his room without being seen by anyone. Not that it matters, they’ll all see him during family breakfast tomorrow. Al’s been in enough fights that the whole family knows the lifespan of a bruise, they’ll ask what happened at school.

He collapses to his bed and sighs. There are fingerprints on his ass, knuckleprints on his face. Thank yous and fuck yous. Ray knows which ones he feels more.


End file.
